A Home for a Boy Named Ed
by BelloftheSea
Summary: These are the misadventures of Roy Mustang and his little son, Ed. A series of one-shots that take place before the events of "A Boy Named Ed". Not written in chronological order.
1. Pat-a-cake

**A Home for a Boy Named Ed**

These are the misadventures of Roy Mustang and his little son, Ed. A series of one-shots that take place before the events of _A Boy Named Ed._ Not written in chronological order.

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><p><strong>A.N. <strong> I was inspired today to diverge from my main project a bit and put out the first short in this little series. I am, however, counting this in my NaNoWriMo word count as it's all part of the same story and I'm writing it during November. Don't worry. The next chapter of _A Boy Named Ed_ is well underway.

**Disclaimer:** Ed, Al, and all their friends are the property of Hiromu Arakawa. I do not own them, but am grateful for the opportunity to use them in the unleashing of my own imagination.

**Rating:** This story is rated K+

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><p><strong>Pat-a-cake<strong>

Age: 5

Roy wasn't entirely sure what woke him up at 6:17 on a Saturday morning. Normally, his wife would be up by that point, having never been one to change her sleep schedule for something as insignificant as the weekend. But Riza had gone out of town the day before to visit her friend Rebecca in East City. As such, Roy hadn't expected to be disturbed from his slumber until a far more sensible hour – like 9:30 – or at least until the sun was up.

At first, he was tempted to just roll over and go back to sleep. His sheets were warm and his pillow was cradling his head at just the right angle to prevent a sore neck and allow him to breathe deeply without snoring. There were no pressing concerns or stressful thoughts buzzing through his brain to keep him awake. And he was certain that the dream he was having just before his abrupt awakening was something of the pleasurable sort involving his wife and an apron.

But just as he felt himself start to drift off once more, a muffled clatter from somewhere in the house caught on the edge of his hearing and forced him back into the waking world. He frowned and sat up in bed, even as he bemoaned the loss of few more hours of perfect slumber. Years of military experience had taught him to be on guard and to not simply ignore an irregular occurrence. The sound did not repeat itself, but Mustang knew he would not be able to sleep again until he investigated its source and verified that all was well within his home.

Snatching his ignition gloves off the bedside table, he tossed back the covers and stood up. He chose to forgo his usual house shoes in favor of the stealth and silence, but cringed at the feeling of cold wood boards beneath his bare feet. Crossing the room, he opened the door carefully. His son's room was just across the hall and he would not do well to wake the boy so early. If there _was_ an intruder in the house, Roy would prefer to deal with the situation swiftly and allow his child to remain blissfully unaware of the threat of danger.

Ed's room was dark – the door left open just a few inches, as it always was, to let in the light from the hallway while he fell asleep. Roy decided to check on the boy _after_ he finished searching the house. He was certain that the sound had come from the kitchen or dining room and he didn't want to make any detours which might allow a burglar to escape. As he entered the family room, from the hallway, he quickly noted that the light was on in the kitchen, confirming his earlier suspicions. There was someone in the house – but who would dare trespass in the home of a well known State Alchemist and his wife who, despite having changed her last name, was still commonly referred to as 'The Hawks Eye.'

Slipping his right hand into its glove, he poised his fingers to snap and crept carefully towards the place where the housebreaker was hiding. But as he rounded the corner he found himself frozen in shock – unable to snap, unable to move, unable to breathe.

He tried to breathe… and only succeeded in inhaling a flurry of flour dust that chose that moment to drift past his nose. He blew and sniffed and shook his head to clear it while never taking his eyes off the complete disaster that surrounded him.

The kitchen was… splattered… there wasn't another word. It was splattered with what _looked_ like it might have been a batter or dough of sorts, although none of it had been mixed very well. He could distinctly make out a single egg yolk, shining brightly yellow in the midst of a milky brown blot on the counter. It wasn't just the counter though, or even a singular spot on the floor. No. This… splatter covered everything – the floor, the walls, the counter, the cabinets, the ice box. There was some on the ceiling as well. Even the very air seemed to be coated as it was still swirling with flour moats.

And sitting in the midst of all of this, verily covered in food stuff as well, was a small, blond haired boy. He was curled up in the middle of the kitchen floor, clutching his right leg to his chest with his left arm. His prosthetic right arm hung limply at his side while his left, equally prosthetic leg stuck out in front of him like part of a broken rag doll. His head was tucked low, leaning somewhere against his arm or his leg for support while his shoulders shook with what were clearly suppressed sobs.

The sight of his son's distress, pushed aside any confusion, anger, or humor he might have felt at the sight of his kitchen in such a state of disarray. He moved quickly, across the room – only pausing for one awful moment wherein his bare, right foot squelched into something horrible cold and sticky. He did not, however, allow that to deter him from his path. He crouched down before his son and braced his hands on the boy's slight shoulders.

"Ed. Ed!" A slight amount of panic came through in his voice when the child did not respond instantaneously to his name. Roy pushed back that irrational feeling and locked it somewhere beneath his stomach. He needed to focus. If something was wrong – _Oh, please! Don't let something be wrong!_

Ed looked up slowly, his eyes still wet with tears and his lip quivering as he sniffled. "Daddy?"

"Ed, are you hurt?" Roy asked quickly, trying to suppress the sudden urge to search every inch of his son's body for whatever invisible wound was causing him pain.

The boy blinked as though he didn't understand the question, but then shook his head while he choked out another sob and more tears bloomed from his golden eyes.

Roy breathed out a sigh of relief even as his sense of utter befuddlement rose to new heights. How had this happened? This wasn't exactly Ed's first time in the kitchen – far from it in fact. The five year old loved spending time in the kitchen, helping his mother prepare meals and bake tasty deserts. Roy usually just watched – his own culinary skills ending somewhere around preparing coffee and boiling noodles. He couldn't have been more grateful when Riza started packing their icebox with easily reheat-able meals shortly after baby-Ed started eating solid foods.

Ed took to cooking much the same way he took to everything else – with a surprising amount of patience, coupled with fiery determination. Where another child might rush through the process and be constantly dropping bowls, crushing eggs, and flinging batter before finally giving up and letting the grown-up do all the work while he licked the batter off the spoon, Ed was resolved to do every task he was given, by himself, to the very best of his ability, from start to finish. He worked slowly and steadily as he came up with clever ways to compensate for the limited range or movement in his prosthetic limbs. But he could confidently carry a pitcher of water without spilling a drop. He could crack an egg, one-handed, over the bowl without dropping any shell fragments. And he could certainly manage to stir a bowl of batter without splattering anything on the counter – let alone the entire kitchen.

Everything Roy knew about his son and the boy's near perfect record for not making messes in the kitchen simply didn't add up to… this. Ed had never done something like this – not in all of the countless hours he had spent in the kitchen under his mother's careful tutelage. Perhaps that was it. Riza had always been there before – always available to help if something should happen. But Riza wasn't here this time… no, it still didn't add up. It wasn't like Ed had never been allowed to make mistakes before. He'd had some spills early on and they'd lost a few fragile plates and cups to the hardwood floor for his clumsy clutch. But those accidents had only made him more determined to get it right the next time. He was a self-corrector, by nature. It only took a few genuine attempts at anything for him to get it right.

No, there was no way to justify this disaster. It couldn't be chalked up to something as ridiculous as children doing stupid things when their parents weren't watching. Maybe other children did things like this. But Ed was like other children. He just didn't _do _things like this. Surely… surely, there was a rational explanation for this. But the only one who could provide that explanation was currently covered in flour and slime and tears.

Roy hesitated only a moment before sitting on the splattered floor and pulling the splattered boy into his lap. They would both need baths and a change of clothes after this, but coaxing an explanation out of his currently distraught son would be much easier if they were both comfortable. He leaned his back against the counter and waited as Ed found that oh so familiar position against his chest - with his blond head tucked neatly beneath Roy's chin and his left hand flexing absently within the folds of his father's shirt.

It was something they had started years ago – whenever Ed did something wrong and thought he was in trouble, he would solemnly approach his father with his chin tucked low and his eyes shut tight in apology. The first time it happened Roy had gotten the sense that Ed was afraid – not _of_ him, but of losing him – that his actions would somehow cause his beloved father to reject him. And upon realizing this, Roy determined that his son would never feel that sting of rejection from him. So he gathered the boy in his arms and held him close until the tears subsided. And then they talked about what had occurred and why it was wrong and they discussed appropriate consequences for his actions. Since then it had become the norm, if Ed made a mistake, to see the boy pressed against his father's chest, awaiting their discussion and willing to accept whatever consequences, but always knowing that, no matter what he did wrong, his father would never leave him and would always love him.

It didn't take long, therefore, for Ed to sniffle and wipe away his tears. Secure in his father's arms, he knew it was time to face his mistake. Roy looked down and met his son's sorrowful golden eyes and asked him plainly. "What happened?"

He expected the boy to answer in kind – plain and straightforward as he had learned was the best way to get things out in the open right from the start. But for the first time in a long time, Ed hesitated in his answer. He chewed on his lower lip and averted his eyes. He scratched at the spot where the harness for his prosthetic arm always seemed to irritate his skin, no matter what kind of padding they used. He picked at a drying spot of batter on his cheek, letting it flake and crumble into a dusty pile on his lap.

Finally, after too long a time to be considered normal, the boy sighed heavily and admitted the truth. "I was trying to make you a cake, for your birthday… it was supposed to be a secret." The last part came out in a bitter mumble, as though berating himself for his failed surprise.

Roy had to think about that statement for several moments and consider the day planner on his desk at work – which he rarely used since his wife was more efficient at keeping him on schedule – before determining that, yes, it was his birthday. He hadn't actually acknowledged his birthday, as anything more than another date on the calendar, since he'd reached the legal drinking age. He hadn't _celebrated_ his birthday since he was a boy, not much older than Ed was now. He just didn't see the point in making such a big deal to celebrate the day he "turned" a year older when, in actuality, he grew older with every passing day. He didn't have a problem celebrating birthdays for other people – for his son especially, in recent years. He just didn't like to advertise his own. Which begged the question – how did Ed know?

"How did you know?" he voiced his thought.

"It was on my calendar – Mommy put it there. I saw it yesterday when I marked the days till Mommy comes home." Ah, that explained it. Ed loved calendars. He'd discovered them a few years ago, when Roy was going out of town on assignment and used the calendar to explain to his boy just how many days he'd be gone. Ed had diligently crossed out the days until his father's return and was pleased as pie when the proper day arrived and his father came home, just like he'd promised. In the toddler's mind, it had been like magic.

Ed knew better than that now, but he still used his calendar faithfully. He liked to write down special events and holidays and found various things he could "countdown" to. It made sense then, that Ed would ask for the birthdates of important people in his life and mark these down as well. Though Roy rather wished his own birthday had not been listed among those – especially seeing as how _this_ was the consequence.

"Okay… so, you tried to make a cake. But Ed, you've baked plenty of times before. How did… how did this happen?" he swung his arm out to indicate the mess in the room and Ed followed the gesture, looking about warily as an embarrassed blush stole over his face.

He lowered his gaze and toyed with his prosthetic fingers for a moment before explaining. "Mommy said I'm not allowed to use the oven without a grownup. Mommy's not here and I didn't want you to know about it, so I didn't know what I was gonna do. Then I remembered what you said about alchemy – that it was like baking – and I thought maybe I could transmute the cake out of the ingredients. But… it didn't work. It rebounded and…" he trailed off, looking around the room again.

Roy, for his part, was unable to respond immediately to the confession. This was probably a good thing seeing as how his first impulse was to laugh out loud. He searched the kitchen floor with his eyes and there, sure enough, hidden beneath a healthy coating of flour and partially destroyed by a large batter splatter, were the remnants of a chalk-drawn transmutation circle. He thought he'd been shocked when he first walked into the kitchen and saw the mess. But that was nothing to what he now felt at realizing how said mess came to be.

And to think that this was all his own fault. He should have been more careful with his similes during their most recent alchemy practice session. _Alchemy is like baking,_ he'd said. _You have to measure the ingredients just right to get the right results. _

"Ed… Son, when I said alchemy was like baking, I didn't… I didn't mean it like this. I was referring to measurements and ingredients – the components of a recipe. I didn't…" He trailed off in his circular explanation and came up with a way to state things clearly. "Alchemy is like baking… but baking is_ not_ like alchemy. Believe me, if it was, I would be a much more accomplished chef. You've tasted enough of my food to know otherwise."

Ed nodded solemnly but with a glint in his eye. "Mommy's tastes better."

"That is does, Kiddo." Roy replied, ruffling his son's hair. Then he met the boy's eyes seriously. "Look, do you understand? You can't transmute a cake… it just doesn't work that way."

The boy nodded again. "I know that now." Then he tucked his chin and peered up at his father from beneath his bangs. "I'm sorry, Daddy."

"I know, Son. It was an accident." Roy wrapped his arms around his son and held him tightly for a moment longer – ignoring the sticky mess that was now drying on the front of his shirt. "That's why I say you shouldn't use alchemy when I'm not with you – so that accidents like this don't happen."

Ed gasped suddenly and sat up straight. "So by trying not to break the rule about the oven I ended up breaking the alchemy rule…" he pouted and slouched again. "I was just so excited about making the cake that I forgot… and now your birthday is ruined. It was supposed to be special."

"Ed, I don't need a cake to have a good birthday. I don't even need a birthday to have a special day."

The boy's eyes flew open wide in shock and then narrowed in confusion. "How can you not need a birthday? They're important! It's the day you get older."

Roy smiled at his son's innocent statement. "You don't just get older in one day. You grow a little bit every day of the year, don't you?"

Ed considered that for a moment and then nodded. "Well… yeah. But Mommy said we have birthdays to celebrate all the good things and growing we did during the year. Everybody gets one – me and Bri and Kale and Elicia and Mommy. So you have to have one too! What about the party and cake? And presents!"

"Who needs presents when I've got you?" Roy shrugged and then laughed at the baffled expression on Ed's face.

"Me?"

"Yeah, you. You and your mother are the best presents I could ever ask for. And I don't have to wait for my birthday to enjoy your presence. You're always with me, year round. So every day is a special day." _And I'm starting to sound like a cheesy greeting card – what has this kid done to me?_ Roy groaned internally at how soft he'd grown over the years. That pronouncement reminded him too much of the ridiculously coded phone messages he used to pass back and forth to "Elizabeth" back in the day. _Now I actually mean those things when I say them… _

But the happy look in his son's eyes more than made up for whatever humiliation he felt at his own fatherly platitudes. And the warmth of his son's embrace was only disturbed by the feeling of a sticky hand pressed against the back of his neck.

"I still wanna make you a cake, though." Ed insisted, leaning back and meeting his father's eyes seriously.

Roy considered the determined look Ed was giving him and decided it might just be worth it to start celebrating his birthday again. So he nodded. "Fine, but we need to get this kitchen cleaned up first. I'll help, but since you made the mess, you're in charge of making sure everything gets done right. Afterwards, I'll help you make the cake."

"No! I wanna do it by myself. Besides… you can't cook."

Roy laughed but grudgingly admitted that his son was right. "Alright, fine. You make the cake and I'll sit here and supervise so that you can use the oven, deal?"

"Deal." They shook on it.

"Now go get the cleaning supplies from the hall closet." He gave his boy a little shove to help him up and then climbed to his own feet as well. While Ed went to get what was needed, Roy looked over the kitchen again and groaned internally at how much work it was going to take to get all of this cleaned up. His eyes drifted to the floor and caught on the partially obscured transmutation circle. He considered what his son had drawn and the careful notations made to account for the chemical breakdown of flour and eggs – the boy must have looked that up somewhere. There was even a rune dedicated to controlling the reaction of sodium bicarbonate which would allow the cake to rise. Actually – the circle was contrived rather well, not perfect of course, but not that bad.

_My kid is a freaking genius, _he thought, his mind suddenly reeling with the possibilities. There was obviously a lot of research and theorizing that needed to be done but maybe… just maybe, it was possible to transmute a cake after all. Not that he'd be telling his five-year-old son that anytime soon. They didn't need a repeat of this disaster. But maybe someday someone would figure out a practical way to use alchemy in meal preparation. It would certainly be interesting.

_Just as long as they don't experiment in my house. _He winced as a fat blob of batter suddenly landed on his cheek. He wiped it off and looked up. _Right now I've got to figure out how to get cake batter off the ceiling before Riza gets home._

"Hey, Ed?"

"Yeah, Daddy?"

"Let's not tell your mother about this, okay?"


	2. Hush Little Baby

**A Home for a Boy Named Ed**

These are the misadventures of Roy Mustang and his little son, Ed. A series of one-shots that take place before the events of _A Boy Named Ed._ Not written in chronological order.

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><p><strong>A.N. <strong> Okay, so I am inching my way towards 50,000 words and the end of NaNoWriMo. And while I've already written almost 4,000 words today… I'm gonna write more. Here we go, all the way back to the beginning. Let's take a look at Roy's first day as a daddy.

**Disclaimer:** Ed, Al, and all their friends are the property of Hiromu Arakawa. I do not own them, but am grateful for the opportunity to use them in the unleashing of my own imagination.

**Rating:** This story is rated K+

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><p><strong>Hush Little Baby<strong>

Age: 1 day

Five tiny fingers and five tiny toes.

He was pretty sure that wasn't how it was supposed to work, but he counted them again just to be sure.

Because this couldn't really be happening.

He'd gone to the warehouse district early that morning on a hunch. Fullmetal wasn't due to report back until noon but he had been up half the night with a horrible feeling that _something_ had gone wrong.

It was supposed to be a simple mission – reconnaissance, information gathering. _Observe but do not engage. _That was the order. Surely Fullmetal could follow such a simple order. He'd gone alone, for several reasons. Stealth was the first; it was kind of hard to hide a six foot tall suit of armor. The second reason was so that Al could continue researching; hopefully they wouldn't lose too much time during this mission. And third, the reason Ed had insisted that Alphonse _not_ know where he was going – the target was known for blowing things up. The armor-bound-soul could withstand bullets. He was impervious to swords for the most part. His only weak spot was well protected. But getting blown up… well Fullmetal wasn't willing to risk that. Al had been in too many close calls recently. No, better to keep him in the dark, Ed had said.

That plan had worked out well enough until Alphonse had barged into his office demanding information on the whereabouts of his brother. He couldn't have revealed anything if he wanted to – not with Bradley breathing down his neck and potentially listening in from anywhere. The building wasn't safe. The younger Elric had left fuming. Roy wasn't sure he'd ever seen Alphonse so angry.

It wasn't much later that the little bug of apprehension had started in his brain. It had bothered him through dinner, distracted him from reading, disturbed his sleep, until it finally drove him from his home in the wee hours, determined to put his worries to rest so that he could get some rest.

But his journey to the train yard had not managed to ease his mind. Because after half an hour of searching for the delinquent young alchemist, he had finally stumbled upon a most horrific scene.

The floor was covered in blood.

Too much blood.

The Flame Alchemist had not been able to move at first. His mind had screamed in denial. _No! It's not his. It can't be! There has to be another explanation._

But a thorough scan of the warehouse had not revealed a body – either Fullmetal's or anyone else's – only that atrocious red coat, left carelessly on the floor with some other clothes… and shoes… _Is he naked? _

He'd almost bypassed the bundle completely, eyes still roving for the missing teenager. But then a strange sound had caught his ear, prompting him to turn back and take a closer look.

What he found there… it wasn't possible.

At first he was merely baffled by the presence of baby, all alone in such a dark and abandoned place. Surely its mother was nearby. But when he moved to pick up the child, determined to wrap it more securely against the cold, he'd been shocked by the absence of two very important limbs – right arm and left leg – the very same limbs Fullmetal was missing.

But even this strange, coincidental deformity had not been enough for him to realize the truth. It wasn't until the infant opened his eyes that Roy knew… he knew who this child was. Because those fiery golden eyes couldn't belong to anyone else.

Except Alphonse… Al had golden eyes too, right? He didn't actually know. But Al wasn't missing two limbs. _No, he's just missing his entire body. Shit… Alphonse. What am I gonna tell him? _

He didn't have any more time to ponder the question however as the baby… Fullmetal… Ed… baby Ed, decided to make his presence known – loudly, very loudly.

Roy panicked.

"Oh… shh! Don't do that!" He looked around, anxiously, certain that someone was going to come barging in on them. But the train yards were still abandoned this early in the morning. "C'mon, kid. Stop crying. What? Are you hungry? Of course you are. You're always hungry. Well, you're just gonna have to wait because I don't have anything for you."

He took a moment to spread out the red coat, thankful that it wasn't covered in blood as some of the other clothes were. _What the hell happened to you, Fullmetal?_

Laying the baby down atop the coat, he quickly swaddled the child as best he could. It was awkward. He wasn't sure what to do about the missing arm and quarter leg. The stumps looked healed over but… he didn't want to cause any damage or hurt the kid by putting pressure in the wrong places. _The stumps hurt, right? Or was that just from the automail?_ The result was an oddly wrapped bundle with a still screaming head poking out the top. _I officially have no clue what I'm doing. _The Colonel scooped the bundle up in one arm and then gathered the clothes and shoes with the other before hurrying out of the building and back to his car.

Roy didn't have a clue what he was going to do. What did one do with a teenager-turn-infant? He couldn't very well turn him in to child services. He had to try and reverse this. But how? _It was alchemy, right?_ _Alchemy must have done this. Nothing else could cause changes of this magnitude. But not even alchemy could normally do this. What was powerful enough to do something like this? A philosopher's stone? Maybe? _

It still didn't make any sense. And he couldn't think straight – not with all the screaming.

"Knock it off, Fullmetal! I'm trying to think."

His own words made him pause and actually look at the child in his arms. He tossed the clothes absently through the open window of his car and maneuvered the infant into both hands to get a better look. The change in position seemed to startle the boy out of his tantrum. He blinked those wide golden eyes and hiccupped through his nose.

"Fullmetal… are you really Fullmetal?" He whispered to the baby. "You certainly look enough like him – like a baby him anyway. I probably shouldn't call you that though. It sounds weird. Ed then, right? I'll have to call you Ed for now. At least until I can find a way to get you back to normal. Don't worry, okay? I'll figure this out, somehow."

Roy turned the child so that he was cradled in the crook of his arm once more. Little Ed gurgled and burped causing the Flame Alchemist to smirk. "Actually… you're kinda cute like this – when you're not crying anyway. Maybe I'll just leave you this way."

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say because the boy started up again, wailing his crocodile tears for all of Central City to hear.

"Alright! Alright, I'm sorry! I didn't mean it! Please stop screaming!"

He bounced the baby. He rocked. He walked. He tried everything he could think of but little Ed wouldn't stop crying. Roy needed help but he didn't think he could bear to trap himself in a car with that sound. He'd go deaf.

"Please, Ed!" He pleaded with the child as though that would get some kind of response. "I'll get you something to eat as soon as I can but I need to you stop crying so that I can drive." He wracked his brain for something that could calm a baby. The only baby he'd ever been around before was Elicia. _Hughes! What would Hughes do?_

Out of the recesses of his mind, where he stored memories of the best friend he had lost, Roy pulled up the day he first met the little girl. Tiny Elicia hadn't been happy in Uncle Roy's awkward arms. He'd quickly handed the girl back to her father. Hughes had just laughed and called her adorable and started to sing.

_Singing! Right a lullaby!_ Roy started with excitement, hoping this would work. But his excitement faded when he realized one key point. _I don't know any lullabies._

He pulled at his memory, trying to recall. _What did Hughes sing? Hush… hush-a-bye? No… it was…_

"Hush little baby, don't say a word. Papa's gonna buy you a mockingbird." He sang, surprised to remember the tune as well as the word. It worked. Little Ed blinked and hiccupped, but he had stopped crying and seemed to be listening.

Roy smiled, victoriously and then he frowned. "What a stupid song. What would a baby do with a mockingbird?"

Apparently Ed did not agree with this assessment because he let out another small scream in protest.

"Okay! Okay! I'll sing! Hush little baby, don't say a word. Papa's gonna buy you a mockingbird. You know that doesn't make sense, right? And I don't know the rest of the words." The tiny face scrunched up and Roy hurried to continue the song. "Hush little baby, don't say a word. Papa's gonna buy you a mockingbird. Hush little baby, don't say a word. Papa's gonna buy you a mockingbird…"

He kept repeating the same line and miraculously, little Ed stopped crying completely. He even burbled a little in what Roy thought might be a happy sound. But the moment that the man stopped singing, that little nose would wrinkle up again, spurring him to resume the refrain.

Several minutes passed in this way. Roy wracked his brain while he sang, trying to make a plan. _I'll take him to Gracia. She'll know what to do. But I have to get him there first. I can't drive with him like this. But if I put him down he might start crying again. I need him to go to sleep or something. _

Somewhere in the midst of his singing and brainstorming, little Ed had wriggled his tiny left hand up out of the red coat swaddling him. Roy absently touched those five tiny fingers. He didn't even realize what he was doing until that little hand latched onto his own, glove-covered finger.

"Hey, that's mine." Roy interrupted his singing to berate the child gently. He tried to pull his finger away only to have it grasped more firmly and pulled into a curious mouth.

The Flame Alchemist froze, struck with awe by that simple, innocent action. _Is this really the same kid who's been such a pain in my ass for the past four years? Seeing him like this… he's so... small, fragile. _He felt a tiny tug, somewhere in his chest, and a fierce sense of protectiveness overcame him. _You'll be alright, kid. I'll take care of you. Don't worry._

He smiled even as he felt moisture seep its way up the glove from the baby's gumming. "You know these things don't work very well when their wet, right kid?" Little Ed let out a sudden yawn and then went right back to chewing on the Colonel's finger. "You're doing this on purpose. I'm sure of it." But there was no heat in his words.

"Hush little baby, don't say a word. Papa's gonna buy you a mockingbird."

Three refrains later, the baby was fast asleep. Roy quickly made a nest out of Ed's clothes in the car. Two minutes later, Roy was making his way through the city, towards Gracia's apartment, on and hand on the steering wheel and the other holding baby Ed steady on seat beside him.


	3. We All Fall Down

**A Home for a Boy Named Ed**

These are the misadventures of Roy Mustang and his little son, Ed. A series of one-shots that take place before the events of _A Boy Named Ed._ Not written in chronological order.

* * *

><p><strong>A.N. <strong> With less than 2,000 words left to write for NaNoWriMo, I have decided to give you all another story about Roy and little Ed. This one's a little rough though – just warning you.

**Disclaimer:** Ed, Al, and all their friends are the property of Hiromu Arakawa. I do not own them, but am grateful for the opportunity to use them in the unleashing of my own imagination.

**Rating:** This story is rated K+

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><p><strong>We All Fall Down<strong>

Age: 2

"Daddy."

Roy looked up from his work at the plaintive call from his son. The boy was sitting at his own little desk, in a chair specially designed to help him stay upright despite his missing limbs. It had a large padded arm on the right side which Ed could lean against so that he didn't have to worry about keeping his balance while he practiced drawing circles – Ed loved drawing circles.

Looking over, Roy noted that the boy had once again removed the simple prosthetic from his left leg and the dummy had been discarded on the floor by his chair. He'd only been fitted for the leg two weeks ago and, while it had thrilled him to be able to stand up straight without holding anything and to take those first tentative steps on his own, the two-year-old was not yet comfortable wearing it all the time and had quickly figured out how to undo the strap and harness which held it in place. It still baffled Roy just how much little Ed could learn how to do one handed. Of course, the boy still couldn't put it back on by himself.

What Roy found curious in this moment, though, was that Ed was not looking at him. The boy was still staring at the paper on his desk, his hand still moving in careful, precise motions to create the circles he as so fond of drawing. It almost seemed that Roy had imagined his son's voice calling out to him.

"What is it, Ed?" He asked, just to be sure. But the boy did not reply. That was typical. Selective hearing, Gracia called it – common in toddlers especially when they are focused on a specific task. Roy rolled his eyes and went back to work. If Ed needed him, he would say something. The boy was very good at making his needs known. He made ample use of his rapidly growing vocabulary. _The kid eats words for breakfast._

"Daddy."

Once more, Roy turned in his seat to look at his son. But Ed hadn't moved. He was still staring at his paper. "What is it, Ed?" he asked again. There was no response. Roy sighed and pushed himself up from his seat. "I very busy right now, Ed. Do you need something or not?"

Silence.

Ed knew better than to do something like this. If he needed something or had a question, he could ask and his father was always ready to answer. But the agreement was simple. The sooner Daddy finished his work, the sooner they could play and read and _maybe_ have a treat before bedtime. Roy opened his mouth to remind the child of this but the word caught in his throat.

The crayon wasn't moving. It was tilting precariously in a weak grasp. What's more, the boy was leaning too heavily against the arm of the chair, his head lilting oddly to one side.

"Daddy."

It was the weakened note in Ed's call that spurred Roy into action. "Are you okay, Ed?" He crouched down and placed the back of his hand against the boy's forehead. His eyes widened in a sudden gasp. "You're burning up! Where did this come from? You were fine at dinner."

All thoughts of work were forgotten as he picked up his son and hurried to the kitchen. He found the thermometer buried in his junk drawer and rinsed it off quickly before sliding it into the boy's mouth. "Under your tongue, Ed." Normally that demand would receive an argument or at least a scowl. Ed hated keeping the thermometer under his tongue. But boy offered no protest this time.

Roy bit back the worry and panic which threatened to overcome him. This wasn't the first time Ed had been sick. He knew what to do. And if he wasn't sure, Riza was only a phone call away. They would be fine. He could handle this.

_Thirty-nine degrees Celsius… that's high._ Discarding the thermometer, Roy quickly found a washcloth and ran it under the tap for a few seconds. He maneuvered about, one handed, wringing and awkwardly folding the cloth before dabbing it against his son's flushed cheeks and forehead.

Ed cringed away from the touch. "Cold…" he whimpered.

"I know, Son. But it'll help bring your fever down." Roy continued his ministrations. "How do you feel, Ed? What hurts?"

Ed stared listlessly for a moment. His eyes were hazy and dim. "Head hurt… Back hurt… ever'ting hurt." He turned away from the cold cloth and buried his face against Roy's shoulder. "Daddy."

* * *

><p>Roy spent the night at his son's bedside, changing cold cloths and assisting with sips of water. So far Ed had managed to keep both his dinner and the water down, though he'd started complaining of stomach aches near midnight. He slept fitfully and woke frequently. Roy didn't sleep at all.<p>

It wasn't an unfamiliar routine. Ed had gotten sick several times over the past two years. Roy had panicked the first time, calling Riza and Gracia and Knox. He'd been desperate. But their careful coaching had given him some confidence. He knew what to do and what signs to watch for. But Ed was a resilient boy. He bounced back quickly from illness and would likely be back to his normal self within twenty-four hours.

Nevertheless, Roy had placed a call to Riza, letting her know that Ed was sick, just in case. He planned to call Knox in the morning. It wouldn't hurt to have the good doctor make a house call. Knox enjoyed visiting Ed anyway – a happy toddler was far better for the old man's soul than his usual patients.

* * *

><p>"Thirty-two hours." Roy said, holding the phone receiver to his ear. "No, the fever hasn't broken… he's been sleeping mostly… I gave him some broth last night but it didn't stay down. I've been able to get him to drink water but that's it… he says his back hurts… headache, stomachache. He's mentioned his leg a few times but… I would greatly appreciate it. Thank you."<p>

Roy hung up the phone and sunk heavily against the couch. He was exhausted.

Riza was sitting with Ed now, supposedly so that Roy could get some sleep. But worry had driven him to call Knox a second time and make arrangements for the doctor to visit.

Ed had never been sick for this long before unless it was a cold. Colds took forever, but they didn't keep the boy bedridden with fevers and aches. This was different and after a second night spent watching over his ailing son, Roy had decided it was time to call in the cavalry.

* * *

><p>"Poliomyelitis."<p>

The word hung in the air between the three adults and the sleeping child. Cold fear gripped Roy's heart as he tried to deny what he already knew that word meant. It couldn't be. Not Ed. Not his son.

"Are you certain?"

The doctor nodded. "It's the most likely explanation although I couldn't say for sure without proper testing. There's a small epidemic going around Central. Doctors have been working to contain it but with all the stagnant water this summer, there's only so much that can be done. Ed's not the first child to have contracted it."

Rainy nights and hot days. Water had been pooling in the gutters for weeks and children loved to play in the puddles to escape the heat. All it took was a few contaminated pools and the disease would spread. Ed had been playing in one of those puddles just last week.

"Why haven't they issued a warning? Why didn't we know?" Roy bit back his anger. It wouldn't help to take this out on Knox. The old man usually worked with dead people. It wasn't his job to warn the living.

"They're likely trying to prevent a panic. No telling what people will do when they hear the word polio. It's still early anyway. The first case was only reported two weeks ago. I expect the warning will go out soon."

"It'll go out tomorrow."Riza said firmly and Roy knew he could count on her to make it happen. Not that it would help Ed.

With a frustrated sigh, Roy sat on the edge of the bed and ran his fingers through Ed's sweaty hair. The boy had been miserable when he was awake and didn't seem too much better while sleeping.

"What does it even mean?" He needed to know. There was only so much information out there about polio and most of it was really bad. Paralysis or death – that's what he'd heard. Neither was something he could just sit back and except for his Ed. I can't lose him. And he can't afford to lose anymore limbs. There had to be another way.

"Infantile paralysis." Riza whispered, resignedly.

"Not always." Knox corrected. "Rarely, actually. That nickname is something of a misnomer. It suggests an outcome which is really only true for less than one percent of those infected. Most people never show symptoms and less than ten percent take ill at all. Yes, it can lead to paralysis or even death. But it's too early to say if either will be the case here."

"How do we know? What do we do?" Roy couldn't keep the desperate note out of his voice.

"For starters, take care not to contract or spread the disease yourselves. Lots of soap and hot water – I'm sure you know the drill. As for Ed – watch for loss in reflexes, severe pain, or floppy limbs. These are signs of paralytic polio. Beyond that, keep him hydrated. Try to get some food in him. And let it run its course. It'll be about ten days. I'll give you a prescription for an antibiotic which should help ward off additional infection. Baring any complications, he could make a complete recovery."

"And if there are complications?"

Knox sighed heavily. "I'm not going to lie to you, Mustang. It's hard to say what the extent of the damage could be until it's done. At that point, you'll do what you have to do. But I've seen a lot of kids come out of this just fine and given… _who_ this kid is, I really don't think he's gonna go down without a fight."

* * *

><p>"Hush little baby, don't say a word. Papa's gonna buy you a mockingbird."<p>

He lay on the bed, curled up beside his boy. Ed was whimpering in his sleep and Roy did his best to soothe him with a gentle hand on his forehead and that old lullaby which still didn't make any sense.

"And if that mockingbird don't sing, Papa's gonna buy you a diamond ring."

Three more days had passed. Ed hadn't gotten any worse. But he hadn't gotten any better either. Roy's heart ached as he watched his little boy lying there, in so much pain. There was nothing he could do about it. Ed was growing weaker by the day, unable to eat any food or drink very much. Until he did… he was still at risk. He was still in danger – maybe not of paralysis; Knox didn't think that was the case this time as the additional symptoms had not shown. But he could still die. And Roy… despite all of his power as an alchemist, as a soldier, as a General, could do nothing to stop it.

"And if that diamond ring turns brass, Papa's gonna buy you a looking glass.

All he could do was sing a stupid song and hope that his little boy was strong enough to overcome this.

"And if that looking glass should…" His voice caught and he choked back a sob. His eyes stung with unshed tears as he pulled the boy close and buried his face in soft yellow hair. "You have to pull through this, Ed. You have to… I can't lose you now. Do you hear me, kid? You're stronger than this. You were the Fullmetal Alchemist. You can do anything. Don't let this beat you… Don't die… that's an order, kid. You're not allowed to die."

* * *

><p>"Daddy?"<p>

"Hey, Ed. How're you feeling, kiddo?"

Eight days had passed since that first night. Ed's fever had finally broken and he seemed to be slowly regaining his strength.

"Hungry."

"I'll get you some soup." Roy started to turn back towards the kitchen but the boy shook his head.

"No soup."

"Well what do you want?"

Ed's face scrunched up in serious thought before he announced his answer. "Pie. Can Aunt Gracia make me a pie?"

Roy smiled. "Let's have some soup first. Then I'll call Gracia and see about that pie.

* * *

><p>They were lucky.<p>

In the weeks and months that followed, Roy heard stories about other children who'd contracted that horrible disease. Polio had run its course through Central, taking twenty-three lives and leaving seventeen crippled. In the grand scheme of things, it really was a minor epidemic. But for the parents who'd lost a child and for the children who'd been paralyzed, it was so much more. Their lives would never be the same.

Roy watched Ed toddle around on his prosthetic after Hayate. The boy was finally getting the hang of the thing and was willing to leave it on for extended periods. They were going in for an arm fitting next month.

Seeing his son now, all smiling and happy and energetic, it was hard to imagine just how close he'd been to death, not long ago. Ed was strong and he had pulled through. But it could have been so much worse.

Yes, they were lucky. And Roy wasn't going to take these days for granted.

As his son ran past, Roy grabbed the boy and swopped him into the air. Ed squealed, excited to be caught, but then Roy pulled him close in a tight hug. The boy tilted his head, inquisitively.

"What was that for, Daddy?"

"Because I love you, Son."

Ed beamed and snuggled against his father's shoulder. "Love you too, Daddy!"


	4. A Diamond Ring

**A Home for a Boy Named Ed**

These are the misadventures of Roy Mustang and his little son, Ed. A series of one-shots that take place before the events of _A Boy Named Ed._ Not written in chronological order.

* * *

><p>A.N. Guess what? I got my chord in today which means the writing of ABNE will recommence shortly. In the meantime, enjoy this little story and don't forget to check out the bit of art I made to go with it. The link can be found on my profile page.<p>

Disclaimer: Ed, Al, and all their friends are the property of Hiromu Arakawa. I do not own them, but am grateful for the opportunity to use them in the unleashing of my own imagination.

Rating: This story is rated K+

* * *

><p><strong>A Diamond Ring<strong>

Age: 2-3 (after _We All Fall Down_)

For as long as Ed could remember, Daddy had been there. Of course, as long as Ed could remember wasn't a very long time. At two years old, his perception of time was relative and entirely dependent on Daddy.

He knew that "time" was the word Daddy used to let him know what was happening next.

"It's time for bed, Son."

"Time to eat."

"Story time!"

"It's time to be quiet so Daddy can work."

"Okay, Daddy. I work too!" Ed's work was drawing circles. He wanted to draw perfect circles so that he'd be able to make alchemy circles someday, like Daddy.

There were also times when Daddy had to go away.

"It's time for Daddy to go to work." Ed knew that meant Daddy would be away all day at Central Command, working with Riza and Uncles Heymans, Vato, and Kain. Sometimes he got to go too, but not very often.

"Can I go?"

"Not today, Ed."

When Daddy went to work, Ed stayed with Aunt Gracia. Aunt Gracia was nice. She made yummy food. Big Sister Elicia was nice too. She always played with Ed when she got home from school.

One day, while Daddy was at work and Ed was staying with Aunt Gracia, he had a thought he'd never thought before. It all started when Big Sister Elicia got home from school.

Ed was sitting on the couch, reading one of his picture books. He didn't really know how to read yet but he knew that the letters were signs and that the signs meant sounds and that the sounds made words and sometimes, if he looked hard enough, he thought maybe he knew what the signs were saying. He was so close and he knew that there was knowledge hidden in those words and that once he learned how to read he could get the knowledge from all the bigger books that Daddy had at home. He really wanted to read those books, so he kept trying.

He had taken off the pro-sthe-tic leg the doctor had given him. He liked the leg sometimes because it made it easier to do things by himself. But sometimes it was itchy and heavy and when Ed was sitting still for a long time, he liked to take it off. It took a little while to put it back on by himself though so he didn't bother with it at all when Big Sister Elicia walked through the door.

"I'm home! Hey, Ed!" She called, leaving her bag by the door. Big Sister Elicia was seven years old and really cool. She knew how to read and got to go to school and learn new things every day.

"Lici!" Ed cried, using his own nickname for her. He could say Elicia now, but Lici was easier. He closed his book and pushed it off his lap before sliding off the couch to stand on his one leg. He kept his balance by holding onto the couch and then the coffee table as he carefully hop-stopped around to greet his cousin.

Elicia didn't let him hobble for long. After shedding her coat, she went to his side and squatted down before him so that he could climb onto her back. It was an odd sort of piggyback ride, with his one leg wrapped around her waist and his one hand clinging to her shoulder, but Elicia held him tight and he really wasn't very heavy.

"Yay! Horsey! Giddy-up!"

"Hold on tight, Ed. We're gonna go fast."

Big Sister Elicia trip-trotted into the kitchen, with Ed bouncing and giggling on her back. "Aunt Graci!" Ed called. "Look! Ed's so tall!" Ed loved being up high on anyone's back, or shoulders or just being held in their arms. He could see more that way and seeing more meant learning more.

Aunt Gracia turned from the stove, where she was cooking dinner, and smiled. "Well, what do you know? You grew up so fast, Ed. What will your Daddy think?"

"Daddy says I'm a big boy!"

"That you are." Then Aunt Gracia looked at her daughter. "Welcome home, sweetie. How was school?"

"It was fun. We did a science experiment today using magnets." Elicia replied.

"Can I do a science experment?" Ed frowned and then corrected himself. "Experiment?"

"Sure, Ed! I can show you how to use magnets. Teacher let us all have two to bring home. If you hold them one way, they stick together but if you turn them the other, they push apart. And you can find lots of different things to stick to them to. Some things stick and some things don't."

"Metal sticks to magnets." Ed said. He knew that already.

"There are lots of different kinds of metal, Ed. Some metals stick. Others don't. It's fun trying to find the ones that do." Elicia explained

Ed thought for a moment and then remembered. "Aluminum, iron, tin, silver, nickel, gold, copper –"

Aunt Gracia and Big Sister Elicia both laughed. Ed wasn't sure why but he smiled anyway. They were happy, so he was happy.

"Sounds like I need to remind Roy that alchemy textbooks don't make good bedtime stories." Aunt Gracia said and then she turned back to her cooking. "Elicia, why you go show Ed that experiment in the living room while I finish dinner."

"Okay, Mommy." Elicia said. Then she spun around and trip-trotted back into the living room.

But Ed wasn't giggling this time. While Elicia was busy trip-trotting and still thinking about magnets, Ed found his thoughts suddenly distracted by a word he'd heard many times but hadn't really thought about before. His eyebrows tilted upwards and then pulled together in serious thought as he started to wonder…

"Lici?"

"Ed?" The girl responded with the same inquisitive tone, which usually incited a giggle from the boy. But he didn't laugh at all. And when Elicia set him down on the couch and turned around to face him, she noticed that he was still thinking his very serious thoughts. "What's wrong, Ed?"

Ed chewed on his lip for a second. He wanted to figure it out for himself and he thought he knew but he wasn't really sure. Elicia seemed to know though. Finally, he decided to go ahead and ask.

"Lici, what's a mommy?"

"Huh?" The question caught the girl by surprise and she had to stop and think about it for a second. "Well… a mommy is like a daddy, I guess. But a mommy is a woman and a daddy is a man."

That's what Ed thought it might be. It made sense anyway. "Aunt Graci is a mommy?"

"Yup! She's my mommy."

"Oh." Ed nodded seriously, still thinking. For as long as he remembered, Daddy had been there. But he'd never known a mommy. Maybe only girls had mommies and only boys had daddies. "Lici has a mommy. Ed has Daddy." He concluded.

"I have a daddy, too." Elicia said firmly.

Ed frowned and watched Big Sister Elicia stand up and go over to the mantel to take a small, framed photo from the shelf. She brought the picture back to the couch and showed it to Ed.

"See, there are Mommy and me when I was really little. And there's my daddy. You see? I have a mommy and a daddy."

Ed looked at the picture carefully. The little girl did look a lot like Big Sister Elicia, but a lot smaller than she was now. The woman looked just like Aunt Gracia. The man was tall and he wore glasses and had a short beard and a funny smile. Ed thought maybe he had seen the man before in another picture but not in real life.

Ed pointed at the man in the photo and looked at Elicia. "Picture." He said. "Where is Lici's daddy for real?"

Elicia frowned little and traced the outline of the man's face in the photo with her finger. "Daddy had to go away." She explained simply. "It was a long time ago. I don't remember a lot about him – just his voice and his scratchy beard and his big hugs. But we have pictures and Mommy tells me stories. I miss him a lot."

Ed knew Elicia was sad now, but he wasn't really sure why. He did know that when someone was sad, you were supposed to make them feel better. So Ed leaned over to give his cousin a one-armed hug. "When will Lici's daddy come home?" He asked.

Elicia shook her head but put on a little smile and hugged Ed back. "He won't, Ed. He's gone forever. That happens sometimes."

Ed didn't really know what forever meant but he didn't like the idea of a daddy going away and not coming back. _Daddy always come back_, he thought.

He didn't think it was good to keep talking about it though, since Elicia was so sad. He wanted to make her happy again but his thoughts got stuck on mommies and daddies and then mommies again while Elicia went to put the picture away and then got something out of her backpack.

"Lici?"

"Yes, Ed?" Elicia didn't sound super playful anymore. She was probably thinking serious thoughts too.

"Where's my mommy?" He asked, because if Elicia had a mommy and a daddy, then Ed should have a daddy and a mommy too. But he didn't know a mommy and he wondered if maybe his mommy had to go away like Elicia's daddy did. He didn't really like that idea, but he needed to know.

Elicia smiled and laughed a little. Ed was happy that she wasn't sad anymore but she hadn't answered his question yet.

"Tell me, Lici." He insisted.

"You don't have a mommy, silly."

Now he was really confused. That answer didn't make any sense at all.

"Why not?" He stuck his fist on his hip in what might have been an indignant gesture if he'd had both arms to do it with.

Ed thought maybe Elicia really wanted to cheer herself up and not be sad anymore because she giggled some more before answering. "Because Uncle Roy isn't married. My mommy and daddy were married and then they had me. Your daddy has you but he isn't married yet. When he gets married, then you'll have a mommy."

"Oh." That made more sense. So his daddy just had to get married. That was all. But… "When will Daddy get married?"

Elicia shrugged. "When he finds somebody he loves, I guess."

"Daddy loves me." Ed pointed out.

Elicia laughed. "I mean a woman he loves, Ed. He has to find a woman he loves so he can marry her and then she'll be your mommy."

"A woman Daddy loves?"

"Yup! Of course, my mommy says Uncle Roy loves Aunt Riza and Aunt Riza loves him but they're both too stubborn to tell each other."

Elicia put the magnets from her backpack on the coffee table along with a bag full of different small objects. Ed's eyes darted to them in curiosity for a moment before flitting back to his cousin.

"Daddy loves Riza?" he asked.

"I guess so." Elicia shrugged and poured the objects out of the bag. Ed was about to ask something else but a silver Cen and some paper clips caught his attention and his train of thought was lost. It had been a pretty long conversation for a two year old to hold, after all.

* * *

><p>Ed didn't think about mommies again for a while. Then, one night, Riza came over for dinner.<p>

For as long as Ed could remember, Riza had been with Daddy. Riza cooked dinner on weekends because she was a better cook than Daddy. Riza helped keep the house clean because sometimes Daddy forgot. Riza made sure Daddy did his paperwork because Daddy hated doing paperwork. Riza sometimes tucked Ed in at night before she left to go home because if Daddy got up from his work, he'd never finish. Of course, Riza didn't know that Daddy always came in after she left and tucked him in again.

This night, Daddy had only a little work to do after dinner and he finished while Riza was still reading a bedtime story. He came in and stood by the door to listen too.

Riza read what she called "real" bedtime stories which were like the ones Aunt Gracia had. This one was about a little boy and his mommy. While she was reading, Ed remembered what Big Sister Elicia had told him about mommies and about Daddy getting married and about Daddy loving Riza.

He thought about it a lot and didn't hear most of the story but Riza didn't notice. Ed thought that if Daddy loved Riza and Riza loved Daddy then Daddy had to get married to Riza. And when they got married, Riza would be Ed's mommy. He liked that. He thought Riza would make a good mommy. He wanted her to be his mommy now. He looked at her while she read and thought, _Mommy_, and he liked the way that sounded in his head.

The story ended when Riza said, "The End." Usually, she would tuck him in after, but Daddy was here now so she stepped back to let him do it instead.

"Goodnight, Ed." She said as she stepped towards the door.

"Goodnight, Mommy." Said Ed.

Everything was really quiet for a moment. Daddy looked at Mommy and Mommy looked at Daddy and then Mommy nodded and left the room.

Daddy leaned over to give Ed a big hug and then tucked him in. "I love you, Daddy." Ed said.

Usually, Daddy would say, _I love you too_, and then get up and turn off the lights. But he didn't do that this time. He sat there for a minute, on the edge of the bed, and looked at Ed seriously.

"Did you like the story, Ed?" Daddy asked.

Ed shrugged. He didn't want to tell Daddy that he hadn't been listening.

"The boy in the story loved his mother very much."

Ed nodded. He'd heard that much. Daddy had a sad look on his face but Ed didn't know why.

"Are you the boy in the story, Ed?"

Ed frowned and shook his head. "No, Daddy. I'm Ed."

Daddy smiled softly and chuckled. Ed liked that chuckle. It felt good in his ears.

"Is Riza, the mother in the story?"

Daddy was being silly. "No-o!"

Daddy nodded and patted Ed on the head as if to say, _Good. We're clear on that._

"Riza's _my_ mommy."

The patting stopped and Daddy cleared his throat. "Um… No. No, Ed. She isn't."

Ed frowned.

"Riza isn't your mother Ed. She's… she's Riza. Lieutenant Hawkeye. She works in my office. You know that."

Ed nodded and Daddy sighed. Then he patted him again and said, "I love you, Son," and started to stand up.

"Daddy?"

Daddy stopped. "What is it, Ed?"

"Daddy, do you love Riza?"

Daddy sat back down and rubbed the spot between his eyes. "I… yes, Ed. I do love her but not like… I don't… it's…"

Daddy wasn't finishing his sentences. Ed knew he was supposed to use complete sentences so that people could understand him better. Right now, he couldn't understand Daddy very well. He thought maybe if he explained himself better, Daddy would understand and start to talk properly again.

"Daddy loves Riza and Riza loves Daddy. Daddy has to get married with Riza and then Riza will be my mommy."

Daddy blinked… two times. "Did you come up with that all by yourself?" Ed wasn't sure what Daddy meant by that so he just nodded. Daddy sighed heavily and pushed himself to his feet. "Listen, Ed. It's not that simple, okay? Riza is not your mother."

"But I want her to be!" Ed argued.

"I'm sorry, Ed. You can't…" he trailed off.

Ed knew what he was waiting for. He knew how to finish the sentence but he didn't want to. He glared at his father for a moment but his father just glared right back. Ed sighed and looked down at his covers before muttering. "…always get what you want."

"That's right. Now, go to sleep, Ed. I love you."

"Love you, too." Ed murmured, sadly as Daddy shut the light and left the room, leaving the door open just a little.

* * *

><p>For the first time he could remember, Ed was stuck on something. Daddy had said Riza wasn't his Mommy but Ed couldn't get the idea out of his head. Whenever Riza came over for dinner, Ed thought of her as Mommy. He just seemed to fit better that way. He didn't like calling her Riza anymore. He wanted to call her Mommy.<p>

So he did.

Daddy didn't like that.

Every time, Daddy would take Ed aside and remind him. Riza is not your mother. You can't always get what you want. But it didn't make any difference.

One time, Ed overheard Daddy apologizing to Mommy about it.

"I'm sorry, Lieutenant. I've tried talking to him about it but nothing I say seems to make a difference. Hopefully it's just a phase and he'll grow out of it soon."

"It's alright, Sir. I don't mind."

"I know but… I don't want him to start thinking something that isn't true. It'll only hurt him later on. Maybe… maybe it'd be better if you didn't come by as often. I… feel guilty for using you like this, anyway."

"You're not using me, Sir. If I wasn't here, you would never get your work done and Ed would only eat junk food on the weekends. A growing boy needs proper meals and you know you're useless in the kitchen."

Ed didn't hear anymore after that. He was worried. He didn't want Mommy to stop coming by. He wanted her there every day. If calling her Mommy would make Daddy send her away then Ed knew he'd have to stop calling her Mommy.

It wasn't easy. At first he tried to go back to calling her Riza. But that just didn't sound right anymore. Ed decided it might be better not to call her anything. When he needed her attention, he started tugging on her shirt or saying hey or pointing. But then he got in trouble for being rude. Nothing was working very well but at least he wasn't calling her Mommy anymore.

Then, one day, Mommy went on a trip and was gone for a long time. Ed was worried. He wanted to know where she was but he didn't know how to ask without saying her name or calling her Mommy. Finally, he found a picture of her and showed it to Daddy.

"Where…?" he pointed at the picture.

Daddy frowned. "Use your words, Ed."

Ed shook his head and pointed again at the picture but that wasn't what Daddy wanted and Ed knew he wouldn't get an answer that way. He tried something else.

"Where is she?"

Daddy almost answered. He opened his mouth but then closed it again and gave Ed a funny look. "Who?" he asked.

Ed scowled. Daddy knew who. Daddy was trying to make him say her name. Ed didn't want to say her name and he wasn't allowed to say mommy. He felt mad and then he felt sad too and he threw the picture on the floor and marched out of the room as fast as his prosthetic leg could carry him.

He marched right into his bedroom and slammed the door, which he knew wasn't allowed but he didn't care. He wanted Mommy. He wanted her to come home and he wanted to be allowed to call her Mommy.

He climbed up onto his bed and he un-did the buckles on his prosthetic leg. Then he threw that on the floor as well. It made a loud thunk sound which was kind of satisfying. Ed wanted to make more thunk sounds but there wasn't anything else nearby that he could throw so he threw himself down on his pillow instead and cried.

He didn't hear Daddy come in the room but he knew it was Daddy who sat on the bed beside him and ran fingers through his hair until his sobs had turned to hiccups.

"What's wrong, Ed."

Ed sat up but shook his head. He couldn't answer.

Daddy held up the picture he'd thrown on the floor. "Is this about Riza?"

Ed nodded.

"What do you want to know, Ed?"

"Where is she?" It was the same question as before and Ed wondered if Daddy would try to make him say her name again. But Daddy was nice this time.

"Riza had to go on a trip out of town. She'll be back in a few days."

Ed nodded. That's all he wanted to know – that she'd be back.

Daddy sighed though. "Why won't you say her name, Ed? You know her name. I know you do. Why don't you call her Riza anymore?"

"Don't wanna call her Riza." He mumbled.

"What do you want to call her?"

Ed shook his head. He wouldn't say it. He wasn't allowed.

"You can tell me, Son. It's alright. You won't get in trouble."

Ed chewed on his lip and then decided that it was okay to tell Daddy after all. "Mommy." He said sadly.

Daddy nodded slowly and then sighed deeply. "Why, Ed? Why do you want a mommy so much?"

Why? That was a funny question. Ed hadn't thought about why he wanted a mommy. But… why did there have to be a why. Mommies weren't whys. They just were. Like daddies.

"I… want Mommy like I want Daddy. Mommy takes care of me like Daddy does. Mommy loves me like Daddy does. I love Mommy like I love Daddy."

Daddy didn't say anything. He got a funny look on his face. It was sort of sad and sort of serious and really thoughtful. Ed thought maybe Daddy was thinking thoughts he'd never thought before.

"Mommy takes care of Daddy, too." Ed continued. "Mommy loves Daddy and Daddy loves Mommy."

Daddy was quiet for a long time. Ed started feeling sleepy. It was probably naptime but Daddy hadn't said so yet. Ed didn't know if he could know what time it was without Daddy saying so but Ed didn't want to mess up Daddy's thoughts so Ed just curled up on his bed and tried to go to sleep.

Just before he drifted off, he felt Daddy's hand on his forehead and heard some whispered words. "You're right, Ed. You're right."

* * *

><p>When Mommy came home, Ed didn't bother trying to hold his tongue. "Mommy!" he cried and he gave her a big hug. He didn't see the confused look Mommy gave to Daddy or the amused shrug that Daddy gave in return.<p>

That night, Daddy took Ed and Mommy out to a fancy restaurant for dinner. He didn't want Mommy to cook after her long trip. Ed liked the fancy restaurant because he got to wear his good clothes and show off his best manners. He used his napkin and his fork and said please and thank you to the waiter.

Ed fell asleep in Daddy's arms during the walk home. He was full of good food and had both his Mommy and his Daddy.

Ed woke up a little while Daddy was putting him in bed. Then he woke up more when he realized that he hadn't said goodnight to Mommy. He didn't bother trying to put his prosthetic leg back on. He slid out of bed and hop-stopped along the wall to the door. Then he hop-stopped down the hallway and paused at the corner before the living room.

Looking around the corner, Ed saw Daddy talking to Mommy, quietly.

"We've put our lives on hold for so long, reaching for top. But things are different now. I have Ed and… the order I had planned on doing things in has been turned upside-down… You've always been there for me Lieutenant – through everything. You followed me to Ishval, to East City, to Central. Hell, you followed be into parenthood. I think you might be stuck being Ed's mother now, whether you like it or not."

"I think I've been his mother for longer than either of us realized, Sir. I don't mind. Ed is wonderful. You know he's important to me. I would do anything for him."

"Not just him. You've done so much for me Lieutenant, more than I could've ever asked of you."

"You never had to ask."

"Well, I'm asking now, Lieutenant – no – Riza… one last thing. I'm asking…"

Daddy reached into his pocket and pulled out something small. Ed couldn't see it very well but it was shiny and sparkling like a diamond.

Daddy took Mommy's hand and put the something on her finger. It was a ring, Ed realized.

"Will you marry me?"

Mommy smiled softly and shut her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, they landed on Ed, still hiding by the corner. He just grinned widely. Mommy looked back at Daddy and nodded once, very seriously.

"Yes, Sir." She said.

Daddy blinked… two times. Then he laughed. The sound felt good in Ed's ears.


End file.
